


Make Me Into Bigger Pieces

by oliviathecf



Series: Writer's Favorites [4]
Category: Ant-Man (Comics), Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Angry Sex, Blow Jobs, Bruises, Choking, Cunnilingus, Deepthroating, Drunk Masturbating, F/M, First Kiss, First Time, Genderswap, M/M, Manipulation, Masturbation, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Possessive Behavior, Riding, Rough Sex, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Self-Loathing, Sugar Daddy, Teasing, Ultron!Hank Pym, Under-negotiated Kink, Voyeurism, handjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-17
Updated: 2017-08-29
Packaged: 2018-12-03 09:24:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11529360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oliviathecf/pseuds/oliviathecf
Summary: They can be terrible together.A collection of works involving the pairing Hank Pym/Eric O'Grady.





	1. Make Me Into Bigger Pieces

**Author's Note:**

> A collection of works featuring the incredibly rare pair of Hank Pym and Eric O'Grady.
> 
> These fics aren't necessarily in the same universe, and there are the occasional AUs, so they can all be read as individual one shots. The tags may look overwhelming because of this, but the description for each one generally tells you what you're getting into. Some are consistent for how I see the pairing, manipulation, rough sex, and self-hatred for example.
> 
> Another thing to keep in mind is how I personally interpret Eric O'Grady as a character. For starters, as it's never said, I personally see Eric to be very young. He gets the Ant-Man suit at the age of 21 and is dead by 23/24. I also personally see Hank being in his mid to late 40s, so keep that in mind as well. This isn't the place to be finding a healthy relationship though. I also see Eric to be somewhat sympathetic, he does bad things but he hates himself for doing them. But it's easier for him to be bad and, well, he just wants it to be easy. As a Life Model Decoy, he secretly wants to be a hero even though he's a villain.
> 
> The collection title is from [ Dance Yrself Clean ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OoA0cTC228M) by LCD Soundsystem.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They can be terrible together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I went from reading through the backlog of Eric O'Grady comics on the Marvel website to writing this fic, and it took me just a few days to write this one down. It started off as just an idea, stemming from the three issue miniseries with the two of them, just a sort of funny thought in my head, and then I ended up really liking the idea of it.
> 
> I like these two. They're not great people and I enjoy that quite a bit. It was fun to write this story and it was a well needed break from the other stuff I have going, although I don't think this would leave me alone until I wrote it.
> 
> The title is from Dance Yrself Clean by LCD Soundsystem, which is a very O'Grady song to me.

He thrashed under Hank, cursing as he tried to get away. In response, Hank thrust harder into him at an angle that had him whining.

“Fuck you, Pym,” Eric hissed over his shoulder. “I-- _fuck_! Hate you!”

Hank laughed at that, actually _laughed_ , and bent down to bite his shoulder hard. Eric gasped as Hank’s teeth sunk into his flesh and he only fought back harder.

“You asked for this, _O’Grady_.” He said, spitting Eric’s name like it was a curse.

It was too rough, too raw, too _much_ , and yet Eric moaned. He clung to the wall that he has been forced against, and couldn't even remember what they had been arguing about, but it probably has to do with Hank’s science crap and Eric not caring to listen to it. He might've started to mock Hank but, in that moment, he could only think about the head of his cock against a spot inside of him that made him cry out.

He didn't know how he ended up naked while Hank kept most of his clothes on, didn't know how Hank wasn't too hot where he was dripping with sweat and lube that slicked the inside of his thighs.

Hank continued to try and put a Eric-shaped hole through the wall, fucking into him hard and fast. His hips slammed up against his ass, a loud slapping noise echoing through Hank’s lab. 

Eric must have been making too much noise because Hank bit him hard once more.

“Shut the fuck up,” He growled. “You know you _deserve_ this.”

“F-Fuck! _No_!” Eric gasped.  
“Say _it_!” 

Eric shook his head, gasping and trying once again to push himself away. Hank grabbed his hips tighter in response, yanking him back onto his cock. Eric cried out loudly.

“ _Fuck_! Fine,” He whined, voice pitched and high. “I _deserve_ this.”

“Good boy.”

Eric _melted_ under the praise, hesitating before leaning back against his chest. Hank laughed once more, pulling him back and _rolling_ his hips in. His nails dug into Eric’s hip bones, holding him there as he continued to fuck into him. His teeth dragged up the side of his neck, trading bites in for sharp nips.

Rolling back into Hank felt so much more _intimate_. His hard, untouched cock leaked onto the floor of the lab and his lips were parted, soft gasps and moans falling from them. He couldn't take this, couldn't take the feeling of Hank pressing _kisses_ into his throat.

“Fuck, _Pym_ ,” He moaned. “H- _ah_ -Harder!”

That infuriating laugh once more and, yet, nothing changed. Hank held him close, sucking at the flesh of his neck. 

“If you want something, O’Grady,” A flash of tongue against his throat, “ _Take it_.”

He licked his lips, teeth sinking into his bottom one. Eric began moving back, lifting off of his dick and rolling back. He moved back faster and faster, taking away the intimacy and going back to the roughness. Hank pushed him back up against the wall and continued to fuck into him.

“ _Fuck_ , O’Grady,” Hank panted. “So _tight_ , am I your first?”

When Eric said nothing, Hank moaned loudly. He began moving faster, brushing against his prostate with every other thrust. His hand snaked around, finding his cock and stroking him off tempo, slowly and leisurely.

“Oh, _Eric_ ,” He said. “I am, aren't I?”

His face burned, turning scarlet right up to the tips of his ears. When he nodded, slow and hesitant, Hank laughed. That infuriating laugh turned into a moan when Eric rolled back against him. He moved into him once more, short and sharp thrusts.

Hank was on tempo until he wasn't, panting hard in his ear and thrusting into him harder and faster. His hand moved on Eric’s cock, stroking with deft fingers until Eric couldn’t hold back.

“Oh God, Oh God, Oh God,” He whined. “Oh God, Oh-- _Pym_!”

Tears leaked from his eyes, streaking down his face. It was too much for him, the pleasure building and rising until he couldn’t think of anything else but Hank’s dick against his prostate and that hand jerking him off. With a final moan, he spilt hot white over Hank’s knuckles, keening loudly and going taut and _tight_ around him. Hank moaned and continued to fuck him through his orgasm.

“ _Shit_ , O’Grady,” He said, voice high and breathy. “I’m gonna-!”

And he was pumping hot into him, filling him up with cum. They both gasped, Eric squeezed his eyes tight as he road through it. He felt exhausted and _used_ , and Hank kissed his neck which made his skin crawl with arousal and disgust. Eric couldn’t believe that he let Hank fuck him without a condom on, filling him up with cum and wherever else had had been.

When Hank pulled out, he felt empty. He flinched, collapsing against the wall and holding himself up on it. He turned over and looked at Hank.

Hank Pym, who wore a satisfied smirk on his face, still as fully clothed as Eric was completely naked. The Ant-Man suit was scattered over the lab, the big helmet on the workbench. He felt small under Hank’s eyes, melting into the wall.

“Get dressed, I have to get back to _work_ ,” Hank said, clipped and final in tone. “Thanks for this though.”

Eric nodded, shivering and piecing together his uniform. He found his underwear last, shivering as he leaked cum and lube with each step, warm and wet on his thighs. He cringed as he slipped them on, the mess quickly pooling in his boxers.

He finished getting dressed quickly as Hank ignored him, using some tool on the helmet. Briefly, Eric wondered why he had started arguing with Hank in the first place. He couldn't even begin to understand anything that Hank did.

He wiped away hot, angry tears and left the lab. The doors _whooshed_ shut and, as he walked away, Eric could only think about the feeling of cooling cum leaking down his thighs and about how much he hated himself.


	2. Present Company Expect It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's _drowning_ in the look of shock and awe on Hank's face. That and his hands around his throat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is going to be a collection of "Pymgrady" fics from here on out. If I get the urge to write one, it'll go here.

He thrashed and struggled under those long fingers that curled around his neck. Green eyes went comically wide, tears starting to well up, and he wondered if Hank felt anything but the curiosity that was written across his face. He wondered if there was any pity or disgust or sadness in that big brain of his.

Eric didn't think he had done anything this time. He must've been too loud or too annoying, or maybe this was to make up for something. But those fingers started to _squeeze_ and Hank tilted his head, a small smile starting to make its way across his face.

“W-Why,” Eric panted. “What did- _ack_!”

Hank laughed.

“I thought you'd look pretty like this,” Hank said. “ _Baby_.” He said as an afterthought.

Had Hank found out that he had been spying on girls in the shower again? Or that he had called that woman on the street “baby” when she had accidentally run into him?

Those fingers tightened even more and Eric started to feel lightheaded. His shaking hands came up, covering Hank’s. He wasn't trying to push him away, instead holding them in place. Hank chuckled lowly, pulling back briefly.

“What are you doing, _O’Grady_ ,” He murmured. “Do you _want_ this?”

Eric burned with need. He wanted this, he _deserved_ it. He had to deserve it. He nodded and, for once, Hank didn't laugh. 

No, Hank _moaned_. It was low and quiet but still there. From his position on his knees, he could see Hank’s cock jump in the Wasp suit. Eric was hard himself, already leaking in his Ant-Man suit. He fought to catch his breath, looking up at Hank from the floor. 

His eyes were hooded, pupils dilated. Both of them were sweating, it was hot in the lab where Hank happened to corner him. His blond hair was in disarray, Hank had likely been playing with it before he has walked in.

That was all he had done. Walked in and was immediately pushed to his knees with hands on his throat. And, yet, he felt like he deserved it, deserved those hands that found his throat once more.

This time, they maintained eye contact as Hank _squeezed_ tight. He gasped, dick _throbbing_ , and his hands moved back up to cover Hank’s own.

“Look at you,” Hank whispered. “You're _loving_ this. The feeling of my hands around your throat.”

Eric nodded dumbly, gripping Hank’s hands. He fought to keep his eyes open, vision starting to black out around the edges. Above him, Hank was breathing heavily, like he was the one being choked.

It was too much. He started to thrash under those damned hands, panic bubbling up.

“P-Pym--!” He managed to gasp out.

Hank held on for just a little bit longer, eyes growing dark and wide. When he let go, Eric collapsed onto his side, coughing and gasping. Tears welled up, from the coughing as well as sensation of being completely at someone else's mercy. It was overwhelming and he sobbed once, looking up at Hank.

Hank, who looked down at him with open arousal. Who was biting his lip, hands shaking. 

“I guess I just take your _breath_ away,” Hank chuckled. “Huh, O’Grady?”

It hurt to laugh but Eric snorted.

“Shut up, Pym.” He croaked.

He was a wreck, voice rough and damaged. He could only wheeze instead of breathing, each intake of air sending sharp pains down his windpipe. In that moment, he wondered if he'd ever catch his breath again. The thought brought more tears to his eyes, wetting his lashes. 

Eric couldn't take anymore and, yet, he felt like he deserved it. He slowly pushed himself back up to his knees, coughing and fighting to catch his breath again. Hank looked at him with _pity_ of all things, although his cock jumped in his pants once more. When he tilted his head up, exposing his neck, Hank moaned. Instead of grabbing his neck like Eric wanted, he fumbled with the buckle of his belt until he pulled his leaking dick through his fly.

Eric opened his mouth wide and Hank slid in. He could taste the salt of his skin and the thick, heaviness of his pre-cum. He choked as it slid against his tongue, moaning around it. Hank continued to push into his hot, wet mouth until Eric’s lips were stretched wide around the base of him.

“Oh, _Eric_ ,” Hank moaned. “Good boy.”

Hank pulled out just to thrust back in, just to hear him choke once again. Tears leaked down Eric’s scarlet cheeks as he tried to breathe through his nose. Each breath he took in smelt of Hank, salt, musk, and whatever soap he used. The smell sent hot pangs of arousal to the pit of his stomach and he pushed a hand against the bulge in his pants. When he bucked up into his touch, Hank moaned and thrust into his mouth again.

With Hank’s cock down his throat, he couldn't do much besides take it. He hollowed his cheeks around the mouthful, noisily sucking. Saliva dripped down his chin and he didn't even bother to wipe it off, knowing that more would take the place of it. When he began to bob his head, Hank’s hands took a grip of ginger hair, pulling him back and forth.

He was a mess. Tears and burning scarlet cheeks, hair sticking up in any direction. All while he thrust up into his hand, he still hasn't pulled himself out of his pants. Above him, Hank let out a stream of pants and moans.

“ _God_ , if you could see yourself,” Hank said. “You're a _mess_. So _hot_ for my dick in your mouth.”

It was true and that made him feel a lot worse. He as already lightheaded, throat burning as Hank’s cock slid down it again and again. Eric’s jaw started to ache and, yet, he didn't dare do anything about it. He just _let_ Hank use him. 

“You want me to take care of that?” Hank murmured, voice low.

His boot nudged Eric’s hard dick and Eric nearly sobbed in relief, nodding quickly.

“I don't know, have you _earned_ it?”

Eric thought about it before shaking his head. Hank chuckled, gripping his hair and pulling his head off of dick before thrusting back into that hot, wet mouth. They both moaned, Eric’s trailed off into a wet choked off noise.

“I think you have,” Hank said. “ _Baby_.” He added.

That boot nudged against Eric’s cock and he moaned, rutting up against the leather surface as soon as it made the contact he craved. He clung to Hank as he ground against the boot, uncoordinated as he continued to choke on his dick. 

He was embarrassingly close to orgasm and, from the way Hank’s noises were getting higher in pitch and more frequent, he could tell that he was as well. He doubled his efforts, sucking and bobbing his head all while grinding his hips.

When he came, Eric came with a muffled sob, eyes sliding shut. He painted the inside of his Ant-Man suit with hot, white cum, nearly collapsing forward if not for Hank holding him up by the hair. His hips twitched through it as he grew messy in his efforts.

Hank didn't say anything, moaning loudly and gripping him tighter. He gave a few more thrusts before cumming with a cry.

“Oh _fuck_ \--!”

It _burned_ on the way down his abused throat, and Eric coughed, fighting to push back. Hank held him there as he pumped ropes of hot cum down his throat, pulling back when he finally finished. Hank staggered back, leaning against a table while Eric collapsed on the floor. 

Eric coughed, panting and choking. Flecks of cum and blood-tinged saliva sprayed over the lab floor, and Hank laughed.

“Next time, I could put a collar on you,” Hank mused. “What do you think about that?”

Eric wanted to protest, wanted to leave. Instead, he laid on the lab floor and, despite himself, he moaned and nodded.

“Excellent.”


	3. One Day I Won't Define Myself By The One I'm Thinking Of

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first time they kiss is part simplification, part complication.
> 
> Or, how Eric's feelings don't change a damn thing until they do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't usually dabble in the romantic side of writing, and this is probably the closest I'll get to it. For all of Eric's talk, we do see him develop very real feelings for two characters. Of course, he tends to ruin it but this isn't something he can ruin since it was broken to begin with.
> 
> The title of this chapter is from [Aphasia](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5N-CdaTYtMQ) by Pinewood, which is a song that I really love and one that I also feel fits this angle of the pairing.
> 
> As always, please enjoy.

Eric’s breath hitched as Hank thrust into him, and he could only hold on. He knew it was just how they fell but, from their position, he could look into those _intense_ blue eyes and the way they _obsessively_ followed the tears that leaked freely from his eyes. He didn’t know if he was crying from the feeling of being overwhelmed or from the way Hank’s eyes made his heart thump in his chest like the world’s worst drum solo.

This was a _mistake_. Letting Hank touch him, letting Hank _fuck_ him. Eric wasn’t as heartless as he seemed and that damned smile hurt in ways he couldn’t describe. Those teeth did too, biting into his neck, leaving yet another bruise that would peek just above the collar of his Ant-Man suit. It was a bigger mistake letting him fuck him face to face, he could see every smirk and the way his mouth fell open when he moaned.

“So _tight_ every time, O’Grady,” Hank groaned. “All _mine_.”

And Eric supposed that he was. He hadn't been with a woman since Hank had first pinned him and fucked him in the lab. He had looked of course but he hadn't tried to pick up drunk girls in hopes that one of them would sleep with him. No, it was only _Hank_.

The thought made him gasp out loud. The thought and the head of Hank’s cock sliding against his prostate. His eyes squeezed shut and he moaned in time with Hank.

“ _Yes_ ,” He gasped. “Yours.”

Eric’s eyes slid open and he made eye contact with Hank once again. He bit back another moan under teeth that sunk into his bottom lip. Shaking hands reached up and slid into blond hair, watching those blue eyes widen slightly.

Before either of them knew what what happening, Eric pulled Hank down into a kiss. It was just a brush of lips against lips but Hank gasped, pulling back quickly despite his hips _rolling_ into Eric. It was the first time they had ever kissed.

“ _Eric_ ,” Hank sighed. “That…”

He cut himself off by leaning back down and kissing Eric for real, harder and rougher. Their lips moved together, Hank’s tongue slipping in and sliding against his own.

Eric’s eyes squeezed tightly shut, a tear sliding down his cheeks. He blushed bright scarlet, setting high on his cheeks, as Hank brushed it away with his thumb, kissing him once more. 

Kissing Hank felt _right_ even though Eric knew that it was all wrong. Hank was chuckling with each press of their mouths, the sound make Eric’s stomach roll with disgust for himself. He hated himself for the way he pulled Hank tightly against his body.

Hank was _using_ him. That's all this would ever be. And, yet, Eric pulled him down for another kiss.

He craved the _softness_ that Hank would never give him. The idea of it burned him but he wanted it so much. Hooking his legs around Hank’s waist forced him to once again roll into him, rocking in short, slow motions.

Hank moaned as Eric tightened around him, enveloped fully in that heat. Eric’s eyes squeezed tightly shut once more as each motion rubbed Hank’s cock against his prostate. The constant sensation brought him to the edge quickly.

“ _O’Grady_.” Hank hissed. 

He tried to move faster but Eric held him in place, forcing him to move slower. Hank stretched him open and he felt so _full_.

“Oh, _God_ ,” Eric moaned. “O-Oh, Pym…! _Hank_ \--!”

Eric shot hot white all over his stomach, painting his abs with his cum. Hank moaned breathlessly as Eric tightened around him, and he smeared the cum over Eric’s skin. He moved in short, slow thrusts as Eric spasmed around him.

When Eric’s legs fell away from him, he took the opportunity to fuck him harder once again. He slammed into Eric, moaning as he whined and cried out. Eric’s hands maintained their white knuckle grip on the lab table he was on as he begged.

“ _A-Ah_ , stop! I _can't_ ,” He whimpered. “Please, Hank.”

Yet he didn't stop. Not when he was so close. Hank watched as Eric started to cry in earnest, sniffling as he held on throughout the long, fast thrusts. His face was screwed up tight and, when Eric came _again_ , he did so with a loud sob. A pitiful amount of cum joined the first, just a small spurt, and he made a noise like it burned him. 

Hank fucked Eric through his second orgasm, pressing yet another kiss to those red, swollen lips. He looked into wide, tear filled green eyes, and came with a low groan, filling him up with his cum.

Every time Eric thought he got used to the feeling of that low heat spreading through him, the next time managed to be more intense. He _writhed_ as Hank thrust shallowly a few more times, and whimpered at the feeling of Hank’s cum dripping out, running down his thighs in thick droplets.

He stayed down as Hank stepped away, watching as he went over to the neat pile of his clothing. Eric’s clothes were strewn around the lab, his shirt was over a chair and his boxers were on another table. 

Hank, fully dressed, leaned over and kissed him. It was a strange feeling but it made him get up and lean into it. He stood up and let Hank pull him into it, holding him close as their tongues brushed together. Hank’s hands moved down to his hips, tracing the bone there and his tongue did the same with Eric’s bottom lip.

“C’mon, O’Grady,” Hank said. “I have work to do.”

Eric nodded, feeling very dumb in that moment. It only took one kiss to make his heart flutter in his chest and to make him _obey_ Hank.

He gathered his clothes, leaking Hank’s fun the whole time, and left the lab after he was fully dressed and making a mess in the seat of his pants, so full but feeling as empty as ever.


	4. All For Freedom (And For Pleasure)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing ever lasts forever, and it can take just one sentence to ruin her night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I started on this pairing, I never thought I'd be writing cisgirl!Eric O'Grady. I never particularly liked the idea, although I see the merits in it. I do quite like writing all sorts of different things and there's something about a character like Eric O'Grady that's so interesting to make him a woman. In today's Marvel, it seems like all the new female characters have to be the strongest or the smartest, and a character like Erin O'Grady who is selfish and sleazy can't exist.
> 
> So, now she does exist, at least in this fic. Hank Pym being a sugar daddy is an idea that I've seen a few people toy with, and I thought it'd be an interesting change to their dynamic. In my mind, there was two ways it could go. A progression of their relationship, she becomes Ant-Woman and then he becomes her sugar daddy. Or they meet on a sugaring website and he gifts her an Ant-Man suit. I went for the first, but I might return for the second (perhaps with regular Eric).
> 
> Why Erin over Erica? I wish I had some deep reasoning...but I just forgot that the name Erica existed until a friend of mine asked the question. I prefer Erin though, so it stuck. Also, this is the longest fic in this series. If my math is correct, it doubles the word count for the collection, overtaking the first three fics. It really got away from me!
> 
> The title of this chapter is from "Everybody Wants to Rule the World" by Tears For Fears. And, as always, enjoy!

She popped the cork off one of his more expensive looking bottles of wine, one she had found in the cellar of his impressive house. Hank had left her there alone, going back to the lab for some urgent work. Naturally, she was disobeying his request as for her to stay put and not touch anything. 

All of his work had clearly led to him living comfortably, if the house and the wine was anything to go by. The Cabernet Sauvignon she had pulled off the shelf likely cost more than anything she could ever afford, and it was rich and bold on her tongue. Besides that, however, she couldn’t pick out any note of the flavors described on the bottle, but she found herself draining the glass rather quickly.

The dress she had worn to dinner that night was another thing that was far out of her price range, and Erin wondered if Hank had picked it out himself or if he had someone else to do it for him. It fit her well, tight and black. It was classier than anything she owned, longer too as it went all the way down to her ankles. The slit up the side was sexy though, and she felt far older than she was in it.

The lingerie was likely picked out by Hank, dark red lace that matched the bra. Erin had always thought that red lingerie was too slutty but the burgundy scraps of fabric looked good on her skin. It had arrived, neatly wrapped alongside the dress, and she had blushed when trying it on. She contemplated sending him a picture of her in it but Erin knew that Hank would rather wait to see it.

Erin poured herself another glass of the wine, taking it slower this time. Hank had bought a bottle of wine with their dinner after all, and she wanted to be conscious by the time he got home. 

She knew that Hank hadn’t exactly been looking for some pretty young thing but, after she had stolen the Ant-Man suit, he had let her keep it. He didn’t even make her come to dinner with him, he could have, but she had accepted his invitation anyway. Hank was a nerdy scientist, sure, but she found him interesting if a bit infuriating. Still, he bought her more things and that’s how she ended up in this situation, waiting for him to get back to his place.

If it had been anyone else, she would’ve already stripped down to the lingerie and spread herself over the couch. But she knew that Hank liked to undress her himself, taking his time to get to what was underneath.

Erin wondered why his ex-wife would ever leave him as she took another sip of the wine. 

She heard the door open and she put the glass on the table. Hank walked in, keys in his hand, still wearing the lab coat. Erin smiled when she saw him, red painted lips curling up in a smirk.

“I know you told me to stay put,” She started. ‘But I opened a bottle of wine.”

Hank looked slightly surprised but smiled anyway. He walked over to the table and picked up the bottle, turning it over to look at the label.

“I hope I didn’t open some thousand dollar bottle or something.”

He laughed, putting it back on the table.

“I’m not _that_ rich, Erin.”

Hank grabbed her glass and took a sip from the side that wasn’t smeared with her lipstick. He licked his lips of the burgundy liquid and set the glass back down, approaching her and gathering her into his arms. His fingers played with long strands of ginger hair, pushing it behind her shoulder. When he leaned down to press a heated kiss to her neck, Erin gasped softly.

“Oh, _O’Grady_ ,” He sighed. “What am I going to do with you?”

She moaned quietly as he sucked lightly on her neck, hands coming up to tangle in blond hair.

“I can think of a _few_ things.”

Hank chuckled, a low, deep sound that made her shiver. One of his hands slid down from her face, skimming over her side until her reached her hips. He pulled her closer to him, flush up against his body. Hank was stronger than he looked, Erin’s hands finding his broad shoulders and pushing the lab coat from them. It the floor with a soft _thump_. He continued to suck and kiss her neck, slowly moving up until he kissed the corner of her mouth. Erin made the first move, turning her face and pressing their lips together. She was desperate for it, gripping at his shoulders tightly, bunching the fabric under her fist. Her lipstick smeared against his mouth as they kissed, his tongue slipping into her mouth. Erin tasted like the wine she had opened, rich and bold against her own tongue as they slid together.

Hank’s hand moved down from her hips to her ass, grabbing a handful and pulling her even tighter against him. He groaned when she pulled back, teeth nipping at his bottom lip.

“I liked the gift you sent me.” She murmured, smirking sliding across her face as his eyes widened.

She gasped when his hips pushed up, pressing his hard cock against her hip.

“Are you wearing it?” He asked.

When she nodded, his hand gripped her ass tighter before letting her go. He turned her around, finding the zipper on her back and pulling it down _slowly_. Hank pressed kisses to her now-bared shoulders as he dragged the zipper down until it dropped and Erin stepped out of the dress.

The lace bra and panties were a matching set, burgundy and the cream of her pale skin showing through the lace of it. The bra pushed up her breasts in a way that felt classier than her normal push-up bra, although that might’ve been because it was French lingerie and not something she could ever afford. The panties were see-through if she looked hard enough and, from Hank’s eyes on her, she knew he was looking plenty hard. Especially at the damp spot that darkened the fabric subtly, one that grew with his eyes on her.

“Stunning.” He murmured, voice almost a purr.

She never asked how much anything he got her cost but she knew that this was an expensive set of lingerie. Her fingers ran over the fabric absentmindedly, feeling the soft fabric. Cheap lace was itchy, expensive lace felt like hardly anything at all. 

When Hank spun his finger in the air, she grinned and spun around slowly. The thong panties made her ass look great, Hank quite liked her in a thong. Hands found her hips, dragging her back against him. She could feel his hard cock pressed against her ass through his trousers. He ground up against her and she gasped, pushing back. 

Hank’s hands skimmed up her side, moving from her hips to her chest. His hands cupped her breasts. lips once again finding her neck. Her long, red hair tickled his nose as he kissed and nipped at her skin.

“God, you look so _hot_ in this,” He groaned, voice low and rough. “It’s a shame that I’m going to have to take it off of you.”

She moaned as his hand slipped down to rub against the wet spot, stroking over her clit. Erin bucked up into his hand, gripping onto his suit tighter and throwing her head back against his shoulder. The friction of the damp lace against her clit sent _sparks_ of arousal up her spine, a full body shiver moving through her as he continued to rub at her. The damp spot grew in size as more wetness flooded out of her, soaking through the fabric.

Hank pulled back, lifting his hand up to his mouth and tasting her on his fingers. He groaned and moved back to continue rubbing at her.

“ _Fuck_ , I can't wait to taste you,” He murmured, breath hot against her ear. “Do you want me to?”

“Ahh! _Yes_ , Pym.” She moaned, already desperate for it.

Hank continued to rub at her for a few moments longer, feeling her hips jerk into it. His own hips moved against her, his cock a hard, hot line against the swell of her ass. She pushed back against him just to hear him moan. 

His fingers pushed aside the barrier of her panties, sliding against her folds with ease. She moaned, spreading her legs wider.

“I bet I could _slide_ into you so easily right now,” He said, voice low. “You're so _wet_ for me, I bet you'd let me _fuck_ you anywhere.”

“ _Fuck_! Yes!” She gasped.

When Erin pushed back against him, he chuckled. His finger rubbed at her clit, circling it slowly, building up the pit of arousal that was burning low in her stomach.

She whined when he pulled back and turned her around. He slipped the finger past those red painted lips, and she tasted herself on his skin. Her tongue ran over it, licking off all of her slick juices.

“I told you I wanted to _taste_ you, though. And I want you sprawled out on my bed for that.”

Erin moaned around the finger in her mouth, sucking on the now-clean digit. When he pulled back, she nipped at the end just to hear him laugh again. Hank smiled against her skin, pressing another kiss to her neck before reaching down and lacing their fingers together.

He led her into his bedroom. It was a spacious room, Hank didn't seem to have many possessions. His dresser was kept relatively neat and his bed was made. Erin had found herself between those sheets a few times, fine Egyptian cotton with a higher thread count than she had ever felt before.

A hand brushed her hair out of her face, and Hank was leaning down to kiss her. It was brief and soft, a barely-there press of lips against lips, and then he was pushing her back to rest on the bed. Hank stopped her before she moved up towards the pillows, pulling off her black pumps and dropping them onto the hardwood floor with a clatter.

Erin smiled at him before reaching up and pulling him down for another kiss. Her fingers pushed up into blond hair, holding him close. Hank let her kiss him for a few moments before pulling back to reach behind her and unhook her bra.

She arched into his mouth as he sucked one of her nipples. He spent only a few moments there, running his tongue over both of them before trailing down over her stomach. Erin quivered with anticipation as he nipped her hip bones gently, watching that blond head move lower still. Sharp, bright blue eyes looked into her own green one and then he was running his tongue over her clit through her soaked lace panties.

She moaned, hands coming up to tangle in his hair, holding him in place as he ran his tongue across her clit a few times. Erin whined when he closed his lips around it and sucked, sensitive even through the barrier of her lacey underwear. The damp fabric added friction, and her hips jerked up into his mouth.

Even with the friction, it wasn't enough, and Erin moaned when he reached up and pulled the panties off of her, tossing the burgundy fabric aside. Hank pressed kisses into her thighs, trailing up slowly as she _shivered_ with need. When he finally slid his tongue up along her slit, Erin’s hand tightened in his hair and she whined softly.

“ _Christ_ , O’Grady,” Hank groaned against her, the vibrations causing her hips to buck up. “So _wet_ for me.”

She moaned, hips moving up as he ran his tongue around her clit. She only got wetter under his tongue, and Hank moaned as he licked some of her juices up. His tongue slowly pushed into her, shallowly thrusting before be moved back up to lap and suck at her clit.

He held her down as he sucked hard and fast, her moans raising in speed and tempo until she yanked on his hair and gasped loudly, hips twitching as she came under his tongue.

“God, _Pym_.” Erin panted, hips twitching as he pulled back, licking his lips. 

He chuckled, standing up. His chin was glistening with her release, and he wiped it off with his hand. Hank began to undress himself slowly, watching as Erin’s hand slipped down to rub at her clit while she watched him.

“I could watch you do that all day.” He said, voice low and deep.

She moaned softly, finger trailing through her wetness. Of course, he wouldn't be content to watch her for that long. Erin knew how impatient he could get. His cock sprung free from his trousers, already leaking pre-cum from the blood-darkened head. Hank was practically throbbing with need, and he slid between her legs. 

He kissed her and she could taste herself on his tongue.

Hank never used condoms, expecting her to keep up with her own form of birth control. Erin did, of course, a child was the last thing she needed and a child had with Hank Pym seemed like a bad idea in general. Besides, she wanted to please Hank and he swore that it felt better without a condom on. Who was she to second guess him?

He lined his cock up with her hole and pushed in slowly, past the initial resistance. Red nails clawed at his back as he continued to slide into her, stretching her full until he was completely inside of her.

“Always so tight.” Hank hissed, eyes squeezing shut.

She gasped when he pulled out, thrusting up into her once more. He fucked into her, picking up a rhythm that had them both moaning. 

Erin was tight, wet, and hot around him and she moved in time with his thrusts. Her ankles hooked around his back, drawing him in. When she moved to rub at her clit, he pushed her hand away and did it for her, thumb rubbing in tight, hard circles that made her cry out. Her back arched and Hank moved down to lick and suck on her neck. 

They stayed like that for a few moments, blue eyes meeting green as Hank thrust into her body, before he was pulling out of her. He sat, back against the headboard, and she moved with him, climbing into his lap. Erin used her hand to guide him in, sinking down onto his cock.

From that angle, she managed to be even tighter. Hank’s head tilted back, hitting the headboard with a bump as she picked up a rhythm. Erin buried her face into his shoulder, gasping and whining as she moved. When she rolled her hips, they both moaned, and his hands found her hips to keep her moving.

“O'Grady, _shit_ ,” He panted. “Just like that, _fuck_!”

She continued to roll her hips, grinding the head of his cock into a spot that made her gasp and squirm on top of him. One of his fingers moved back in to rub her clit and she moaned loudly as he rubbed it in tight, hard circles.

Erin tipped over the edge with a loud, sharp gasp and a whimper. Hank fucked up into her through her orgasm, the pleasure coursing through her made her entire body twitch. With that tight heat getting tighter and wetter, it didn't take much longer for Hank to finish as well. With a low moan, he pushed her down to take all of his cock and came inside of her, spurting hot cum deep inside of her.

The feeling made her shiver, clinging tightly to him as he continued to thrust lazily inside of her. When he pulled out, his cum leaked out of her, dripping down her thighs. Erin bit her lip to hold in the whine that threatened to escape.

They sat like that for a few moments, breathing heavy and labored, before Hank spoke.

“Why don't you get ready? I'll walk you out.” He said, voice lacking the warmth that it has throughout their dinner.

He got what he wanted.

“Can I-”  
“What?”

Erin sighed.

“Nothing. I don't know,” She mumbled, rolling out of the bed. “I need to use the bathroom.”

She moved quickly on her weak legs, gathering up the lingerie as she leaked cum onto his floor. She knew it was petty but, if he was going to kick her out, she wasn't going to bother to keep neat. After peeing, she dressed herself in that sexy lingerie as quickly as she could, not wanting to catch her own eye in the mirror.

It was times like this when she wondered why she even bothered with Hank in this way. Sure, he was mentoring her and teaching her how to use the Ant-Man suit but she could ignore his calls for anything but business.

When she left the bathroom, he was waiting for her with the dress they had left in the living room. Erin took it from him, zipping herself into it, batting his hands away when he tried to help. She grabbed her shoes and her purse, walking quickly despite the awful feeling of his cum leaking out of her with each step.

“I called an Uber for you.” He mumbled.  
“Great. Thanks.” 

Despite her sour feelings, she let him lean down to kiss her and even kissed back before shutting the door behind her and getting into the waiting car.

Only then, as his house grew smaller with distance, did she allow the hot, angry tears that had been building up to escape.


	5. How Many Nights Have I Drowned Here?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The whiskey burnt more than just his throat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took a lot of liberties with the whole Life Model Decoy thing. But, hey, as the leading Eric O'Grady content creator and the only Pymgrady content creator, I hope you don't mind too terribly. I think Eric developing identity issues after being brought back as a LMD is a very interesting idea, so I ran with it.
> 
> I talk about Scott Lang in this one a bit. I'm going to do a post Secret Empire story one day where all three of them live together in Hank's Ultron town. It makes logical sense to me, especially after Scott ended up being the traitor.
> 
> Title is from "The Ballad of the Costa Concordia" by Car Seat Headrest.
> 
> Enjoy!

He tossed back another shot of whiskey, a drink he never particularly liked in the first place. It weighed heavy on him and burned all the way down to his stomach and a bit more after that. It made him sadder than anything, tears welling up even though he tried to will them down.

Eric’s body was sore, aching from the fighting and the fucking. The alcohol didn't make the pain go away but it dulled it, fading it into the background. Eric lifted his wrist, looking at the bruises surrounding them, five purple fingerprints that hurt when he poked them. Yet he continued to do it, prodding at them until the pain was too much to bear.

In the back of his mind, he wondered what cruel joke it was to make a robot that could still bruise. He was supposed to be able to mimic life but he could do without feeling pain like this. At least he could still get drunk, he decided, throwing back another shot of whiskey. He was starting to feel it, sinking down further into his anger and sadness.

Hank couldn't drink it anyway, Ultron physically couldn't and likely didn't care to. So, Eric found his liquor stash and wondered if Hank used to drink for the same purpose or if he actually liked the stuff. If Hank had spent nights like this, drinking until he felt nothing, until he could close his eyes and just see darkness instead of all of his mistakes.

“God dammit.” He mumbled to no one in particular, poking at his bruises again.

They were everywhere, littering his pale, freckled skin. The tears trickled down his face, over a red and purple one over his cheekbone, and he wiped them away with his fist. He flinched at the press of his knuckles over the bruise, but kept his hand there until he could no longer stand the sting.

He wondered if Eric O’Grady had this problem. The real one, not the facsimile. The past tense of his present. If the real Eric felt so useless. He had the memories, sure, but he can't stand looking back through them just to see the life that he used to have. Hank promised to turn him back into a real boy again, but he was starting to wonder if it was even a possibility or if he was stuck like this forever.

He supposed that Hank, Ultron, could feel the same way. If Ultron could feel. Instead, he had to look into that one human eye and see that sick, blank amusement when Hank told him that he has to hurt him for the sake of science. Eric’s hands shook as he poured himself yet another shot. As he tossed it back, he wondered if a robot could throw up from alcohol and what would come up.

A sharp twist of pain and he realized that he was poking at his bruises once again, thumb digging into the dark purple spots. He swallowed thickly as he realized that the pain sent a thrill through him, part horror and part something else entirely.

“Oh _fuck_.” Eric mumbled, voice thick with awe and disgust.

His cock twitched in his boxers and Eric sighed, eyes squeezing tightly shut. He set down the shot glass that he didn't realize he was still holding, shaking hands finding the bruises that littered his chest and neck. Pressing down on those just made his dick harder, straining against his underwear.

Eric laughed despite himself, a dark and hollow sound. At least his dick still worked, even if it was working in some fucked up way. Reacting to what Hank does to him, to Hank fucking him. It was enough to make his stomach roll but not enough to force his erection down.

He pulled his cock out, starting a quick rhythm. It was rough and the friction was almost too much, Eric squirmed under his hand, but be wanted it to hurt. His hand found one of the fingerprint bruises on his high, pressing down hard enough to make himself cry out.

Eric tasted blood in his mouth, hot copper flooding over his tongue. He had bitten his lip hard enough to make it bleed, and the taste of it blocked out the whiskey and just made him harder.

In that moment, with his hand curled around his hard cock, he thought about Scott Lang and if Hank would ever treat him like this or if his human side would win out. If Hank, in moments of sickening clarity would look at Scott with that _pity_ and sadness in his single blue eye. If he would whisper apologies into Scott’s bare shoulder. In a way, it was almost worse to be treated like a human than a toy because he knew it would end. He wondered if Scott would always be treated like a human, and that's what burnt the most. 

He was brought out of his mind when the slide became so much better, lubricated by pre-cum. Eric gasped, free hand clutching the sheets under him, white knuckled and tight. He chased the idea of Hank’s soft touches and those whispered apologies and reverent words. Orgasm rose at the thoughts, building up with heat in the pit of his stomach, but he came with the press of his thumb against the bruises once more, moaning loudly and shooting all over his chest. Cum splattered up over those bruises, white against dark purple and mottled yellow.

Eric laid back on his bed, hand smearing the cum over his abs, and fought to catch his breath. When he sat back up, he reached for the bottle once more and poured another shot. When he looked up, finally looking past the bottle, a dark laugh dropped from his lips. He gripped the shot glass and raised it up to the camera in his room, looking into the flickering red light and smirking. He shot it back in one go, maintaining eye contact with it. 

And, for once, he didn’t even shudder.


	6. Like He Might Not Forget by the Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Those mumbled apologies might mean something this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You may be asking yourself, "Does Pymtron actually have a penis?" To that, I say, "I wrote it, so he does."
> 
> This is something that's been on my mind for quite awhile. Hank Pym is in there still, so he would have to feel at least a little bad about this. Even if he finds empathy quite hard even as a human, there would still be some humanity in there. And then I thought about how Eric is an LMD so Ultron would be quite okay with hanging around him, even if Eric is so human regardless. 
> 
> Sorry for the slow goings, I lost my job last week and my inspiration seemed to have gone with it. But here's this one! Title is from "My Friend" by Dr. Dog.
> 
> Enjoy

He looked so young, curled up next to Hank. The sleep melted away the boy’s hardened face and made him look like just that. The ginger curls framed his freckled face, bruised and bitten lips slightly parted, and Hank sighed softly.

Ultron laughed in his head and reminded him that Eric wasn't asleep, that he had passed out after they had gotten done with him. Ultron wondered, in the back of Hank’s head, if they could cut Eric enough to show the metal under his skin. Hank pushed those thoughts back, instead choosing to focus on the blush that had risen up on those cheeks.

He leaned over and stroked Eric’s face, pushing aside a lock of red hair that stuck to his cheek. Eric flinched and Hank pulled back like he was burned, watching as Eric curled in on himself.

“ _No_ , please, no.” He whined, voice muffled as he turned to bury his face in the pillow.

Those whines turned to sobs, and Eric pushed his hips back. Ultron reached over and stroked a hand over Eric’s ass, gripping the flesh under his hand. Despite the cries, Eric mumbled something and pushed back into his hand.

Hank stroked that soft skin almost reverently, pulling back control from Ultron. Eric flinched at his cold metal hand but he didn't wake up. The heat from Eric’s skin was warm under the sensors on his hand. He pulled Eric flush against his chest, hands moving to brush his hip bone, his human mouth pressing a kiss to Eric’s head.

“ _Ah_ ,” Eric gasped. “ _Please_ , just lemme sleep, _Ultron_.”

Hank burned on this inside. He wasn't Ultron, even if everyone said he was. His hands tightened on Eric’s hips, rage blinding him briefly. How _dare_ he? How dare his _property_ talk to him like that? Eric O’Grady, the Life Model Decoy, belonged to him. Eric O’Grady, the man, no longer existed but he would belong to Hank too if he did.

When Ultron thinks of Eric O’Grady, he thinks of how he ruined _everything_. That careful facade of a man that he built up, tossed so easily aside for a _monster_. When Hank thinks of Eric, he thinks that he _ruined_ this man, this _boy_. There was never going to be a way that he could fix this, there was never going to be a way he would _want_ to fix it. 

Eric was _his_. He was Ultron’s and Hank’s, the collection of both of them. Eric was _theirs_ , Ultron told him in the back of his mind.

He didn't realize how tightly he was holding on to Eric until he was pushing up, green eyes flying open wide.

“ _Ow_ , Pym, what the fuck?”

Those tear filled eyes looked _scared_ , welling up and spilling over as he looked at Hank with wide eyes. Hank reached over and ran his thumb over Eric’s lips. Eric stopped talking, eyes widening again as he stared at Hank.

“I'm sorry,” Hank murmured. “Oh _God_ , I'm so _sorry_.”

Eric’s expression was unreadable as he looked into Hank’s blue eye, pointedly avoiding the half of his face that belonged to Ultron. That wide, emotionless smirk that bubbled up orange and red mixed with the frown that Hank wore was something that confused Eric greatly. He didn’t know what to feel when he looked at him, all kinds of emotions swirling in his head. 

Hank was jealous that it took no effort for Eric to _feel_ anything, the robotic parts of him not changing the way he processed emotion at all when it took a great effort for him to feel anything other than the biting, dark need to end humanity as the world knew it. Even looking at Eric’s humanity made him want to _destroy_ everything, salting the earth and killing until only machine remained. It took a great effort to see Eric as that beautiful mix of machine and man that made it easier to be around him without the desire to kill him.

Of course, this didn’t quell Ultron’s desire to destroy him in other ways, the bruises on that pale skin a testament to the destruction that both Hank and Ultron left in their wake. But, here, in his most vulnerable state, Hank Pym asked a question that had been on his mind for far too long.

“Why do you stay here with me? You could go, I wouldn’t stop you.”

Eric looked away from his, casting those green eyes down onto the stained sheets they laid upon, finger poking at a dried brown splatter of his blood. Hank nearly repeated himself as Eric seemingly ignored him, but then he looked up at Hank’s face and sighed.

“I have nowhere else to go. The Avengers are hunting down anyone who was on Hydra's team and this is the only place where I’m safe.”

He wasn’t safe, they both knew this, but Hank nodded anyway and Ultron laughed with dark glee in his head. Hank leaned over and kissed Eric, who let him do it without kissing back. His lips were slack as he pushed his tongue in to try and coax him into the kiss but Eric’s mouth stayed parted without motion.

Hank pulled Eric down to lay against his chest, pressing kisses into his bruised neck, licking at each of the five finger prints that marred that pale flesh. His hand started at Eric’s chest, thumbing over his nipples and making him gasp softly. He wasn’t particularly sensitive there but Hank rubbed at them anyway, rolling them under his fingers before moving down to trace his abs. 

His searching fingers eventually found the base of his half hard cock, rubbing around the root of his which made Eric push back into him with a sharp gasp that became a low moan when Hank’s hand circled around him and gave him a shallow stroke. It was already too much for him, overstimulated from the night’s previous activities and from the feeling of _Hank_ surrounding him entirely, the smell of him and the feeling of his half hard cock pressing against his ass.

He started to jerk Eric off with long strokes, still moving slower, and Eric thrust up into that damned fist, the pressure surrounding his dick with a tight, dry heat that made him flinch as much as it made him moan. The pain felt as exquisite as the pleasure, he had learned that the two weren’t exclusive from each other, he had learned to equate them as bedfellows. Pain and pleasure, Hank and Ultron, Hank and _Eric_. It was all the same, like the bruises on his throat and the cum stained sheets, and he found himself pressing on the marks on his wrists while Hank continued to stroke him.

The pre-cum made the slide easier but he found himself missing the pain, even as pleasure already rose up his spine, threatening to crash this early. Hank turned him over and he looked into one blue eye, red with tears that were welling up and spilling down the side of his face. Hank was a wreck, murmuring hushed apologies as he continued to stroke Eric until he was spilling his release over his knuckles and onto the bed in between them. His eyes squeezed shut and he cried out as the pleasure surrounded him, engulfing him in too much heat, tears welling up behind his eyelids. 

Hank was hard despite the pained cries so, when Eric reached over with a shaking hand, he didn’t stop him. It only took a few strokes himself, eye slipping shut while the red of Ultron’s face continued to glow in the darkness, that eternal grin still as bright as ever while Hank’s teeth sunk into his bottom lip, biting back the cries that threatened to spill out as his shot hot cum all over the bed and over Eric’s bare stomach, painting his abs with release. Eric flinched and rolled over to get out of bed, but Hank grabbed onto him before he could leave, pulling him close as his body still shook with his orgasm.

He didn’t struggle, just laid there as Hank murmured apologies in his ear, exhaustion quickly winning over the desire to clean the cooling cum off of his stomach. As he slipped into sleep to the sound of Hank’s repeated, reverent mantra of “I’m sorry”, he only had one thought on his mind.

Maybe Hank had actually meant it this time.


	7. Feels Good to be Running from the Devil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank pushes it too far. Eric finally snaps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heed this warning, this chapter features Eric using Hank's past of being abusive to Jan against him during a scene of Hank being emotionally abusive to Eric. All set in Ant-Man and the Wasp, which features Hank actively trying to make up for this (although I admittedly felt some anger towards Eric throughout the entire thing).
> 
> At this point, I'd like to remind the reader that Eric and Hank are both bad people in their own ways.
> 
> Title is from "High" by Sir Sly.

He clawed at Hank’s back, bunching up the Wasp suit in his hands. Eric’s eyes rolled back as the head of Hank’s cock pressed against his prostate for the first time after he slid into him. The heat and pressure had them both moaning, sweat dripping down Hank’s face as it was yet another time where they had hardly bothered to get undressed. The rhythm of Hank’s thrusting was hard, fast, and unrelenting and Eric bucked and thrashed under him.

He ran a hand through his sweaty, ginger curls, pushing strands of it out of his face. The way his body moved sent the hair straight back to his face, sticking to the sides and blocking his vision. Eric whimpered as Hank cursed and gave another body bruising thrust into him.

Hank had told him that he was trying to keep his temper in check, but there was nothing that made him angrier than Eric these days, riling him up and breaking up their uneasy partnership more times that Eric could even bother to count. He must’ve insulted him or something, it was hard to tell when the thick head of Hank’s cock pressed against that spot inside of him again, but he soon found himself getting dragged by the hair into Hank’s private lab. The door slid shut, lock clicking, and it felt like _finality_. 

Eric looked up at him with those wide green eyes, huge in the way that made him look so young and so vulnerable. He looked defiant and subservient, the boy himself was a contradiction in every sense of the word, and Hank couldn’t help but want to _hurt_ him in that experimental way. To see if he could change Eric O’Grady just by fucking him, if he could _wreck_ him like that.

He looked down onto that young face, tugged on a ginger curl and laughed, low and to himself. Another thrust had Eric rolling his body back, white knuckled against the lab table and bared hips thrusting up into it. His bare, freckled skin was sticky with sweat and pre-cum from the way his hard dick slapped against his abs. Hank smeared the pre-cum over his skin as he skirted around touching Eric’s cock, fingers lightly brushing against the head just to hear Eric gasp and whine.

“This,” Hank panted, rolling his hips in, “Is the only thing you’re good for. You’re _useless_ to me otherwise, aren’t you, O’Grady?”

Eric _gasped_. Not out of arousal or helplessness, but with his _anger_. Rage overwrote the pain and desperation in those huge eyes, tears clearing up as those liquid green irises hardened. His eyebrows furrowed and he pushed upwards. Hank tried to hold on but Eric quickly pushed him away, both of them gasping as Hank’s cock slipped out of him. Hank started to back up on automatic, still-hard cock bobbing between them like some sort of joke as Eric started to approach him, limping slightly. His hands were outstretched and this was something that felt familiar to him.

“No. No fucking way. I am _not_ useless or worthless, you asshole.” Eric growled, continuing to advance.

Hank backed up until the small of his back hit the lab table opposite of the one he just had Eric on. Eric’s eyes were lit up with his anger, green fire topped with furrowed red brows, teeth set in a sneer. His palms pushed against Hank’s chest until he found himself sitting on top of the table, back flat against the metal that was cold even through the fabric of his costume. Eric climbed on top of him, straddling his hips, reaching up to rip the goggles off of his head along with strands of blond hair. He threw them, and they clattered on the floor.

Despite everything, he was still hard. Hank moaned as Eric ground his ass against him, that sneer turning into a feral grin. His hard cock slid between his ass cheeks, the head bumping his slicked hole, catching it in a way that made Eric’s breath hitch around the delirious giggle that fell from his reddened, bruised lips. 

Eric held all the cards now. He looked down into those wide, frantic blue eyes and felt drunk with the power he suddenly had. Gloved hands slid up to his hips and he _let_ Hank grab him, but stayed still even as Hank tried to direct him. His own hands moved from his chest to either side of Hank’s head, leaning down with that shit-eating grin still on his face, nipping Hank’s bottom lip just to hear him gasp. He laughed again, cock hard and leaking against Hank’s costume as he ground against him. The thick, leaking head of Hank’s own cock caught around his rim once again and Hank’s pupils dilated, white knuckled grip on Eric’s hips growing even tighter. 

“Not worthless.” Eric mumbled once more, hips snapping down. 

His breathing grew harsher as he continued to push down. They both gasped when the head of Hank’s cock pushed in, stretching him open. Hank’s hips bucked up, sliding in just a bit more and Eric moaned, pushing up after a few seconds, cock sliding out of him. Hank groaned in frustration, hips bucking up to try and get back into the slick, tight warmth. 

They moved like that for awhile, Hank getting the head of his cock in and Eric _letting_ him fuck into him before moving it out of him. Hank wanted _more_ but Eric wasn’t letting him have it, all while he looked down at Hank with that same manic anger he had seen in the mirror. Suddenly, his lips quirked up into an even wider smile and Eric _finally_ sunk down onto his cock, guiding Hank in with his hand and sliding down until he was fully sheathed in that tight heat.

“ _F-Fuck_ \--!” Hank gasped, gripping his hips tightly. 

Eric rode him hard, hips snapping up as he had Hank right where he wanted him, the head of his cock grinding up against his prostate in a way that made pleasure shoot up and down his spin, sweat breaking out on his forehead. They were both flushed, hot from the effort and from the mutual feeling of burning arousal, and Eric threw his head back, crying out in a high, breathy tone.

“God, P-Pym,” He gasped, eyes suddenly flying open. Green looked into blue and, when he spoke again, his voice didn’t waver like it had before. “Bet you like calling me worthless, hm? Does it make you feel better about yourself?”

Hank didn’t answer him, eyes squeezing shut. His lips were parted, soft groans and gasps falling from them, not bothering to bite them back as Eric took what he wanted. His eyes slipped open when Eric chuckled darkly, different from the previous laughter.

“If not, you could always beat me like you beat your wife. I bet that made you feel good about yourself.”

His eyes flew open, looking up into that cocky face. His mouth was stretched open wide, more baring his teeth than smirking. Hank began to fight him, trying to push him off but Eric held fast, riding him hard. Despite the protests that flew from his mouth, his cock only grew harder and shame shot up his spine, chasing the arousal.

“ _Eric_!” He cried out, trying to push him off still as Eric held on strong.

“You can _ah_ -! Act like you don’t like it, but I can _feel_ how right I am.” He moaned, voice pitching high as orgasm started to build in the pit of his stomach.

Hank tried once more to push him off, weakly as the tears pricked at his eyes. When they slipped down his face, Eric bent over and chased them off of his cheek with his tongue. The feeling of being in charge and the feeling of the head of Hank’s cock pushing up against his prostate sent him over the edge, cum painting the front of the Wasp suit in hot, white spurts that burnt him even through the fabric. Eric moaned loudly, riding Hank through his own orgasm until Hank cried out as well, cumming deep inside Eric. The warmth that spread through him made Eric gasp, hands finding Hank’s face and pulling the rather pliant man up, smashing their lips together in a mockery of a kiss, hips snapping up once more before he went still.

Eric let out a satisfied sigh before sliding up and off of Hank’s softening cock, standing on shaking legs as Hank lay on the lab table, boneless and crying. It made him feel powerful and he grinned at the sight of Hank’s softening cock smearing lube and cum against his pants.

“You’re gonna need to wash that, Doc.” He laughed, raking a hand through his sweaty ginger hair.

He had a spring in his step as he pieced together his costume, looking back every once in awhile to see Hank still laid out on the metal lab table, and he hummed some nonsensical tune as he dressed himself. 

Something landed on Hank’s stomach and he flinched, grabbing it and bringing his goggles up to look at them, smeared with Eric’s fingerprints. He sat up in time to catch Eric winking at him, grin spreading his freckled, flushed cheeks.

“Lemme know if you need me.” He said and, for once, as he walked out of the lab, he felt like he had _power_.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed! Feel free to leave some hate (or love) either here or on my tumblr:
> 
> [ Fic Blog. ](http://fanfictionolivia.tumblr.com/)
> 
> And, if you have any suggestions for anything you'd like to see, feel free to mention them here or on tumblr. There's no guarantee, I don't take requests, but I just might get inspired.


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